


One, Two, Three

by sophinisba



Series: Odd and Even Numbers [1]
Category: Lord of the Rings (2001 2002 2003), Lord of the Rings - Tolkien
Genre: M/M, Threesome, Threesome Slash, over 10000 words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-12
Updated: 2007-01-24
Packaged: 2017-10-06 13:59:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophinisba/pseuds/sophinisba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first three parts of a series about Pippin's sex life and how relationships change over time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Dana's birthday.

Pippin was thirsty. The glare on the water hurt his eyes and the sun on his face made him feel he was being baked alive. But Frodo said this water wasn't good for drinking and Merry was not amused in the least when Pippin tried to tip the three of them in so they might cool off a bit. The water was only knee-deep anyway, and Pippin didn't think it was anything to get upset about. Still, he did settle down after that and didn't say anything about being bored or being hot; he wasn't interested in being sent back inside and he didn't want another lecture about how he needed to learn patience.

Pippin thought that fishing took more patience than the taste of fish actually justified. He much preferred chicken or beef (not to mention mushrooms), and if it were a question of feeding himself he'd never bother with the rod and the reel and the hours of sitting still doing nothing, especially on a hot day like today.

However, he'd never been one to turn down an afternoon in the company of Frodo and Merry. And if they wanted to do something that reminded them of their childhood in Buckland, Pippin was happy enough to be part of that, even if he was necessarily going to be a bit on the edges. Frodo had taught Merry how to fish before Pippin had ever been born, so Pippin wasn't part of the old memories, and there was really nothing he could do about that. Frodo and Merry shared some things that were only for the two of them.

But they let Pippin tag along, and he always enjoyed that, or at least he always had in the past. He thought fish were a bother to catch and slimy in his hands once he did (and too salty in his mouth later on), but he liked having Merry shouting instructions as he reeled it in, and having Frodo help him get it off the hook. He remembered once, on a visit to Merry's when he was much smaller, how Frodo had sat behind him and held him around the waist to keep him from falling into the water as he pulled with all his might -- it wasn't that the fish was anywhere near as big as Pippin, just that he wasn't very used to the motion or very good at keeping his balance yet. Of course, the fish were generally bigger in the Brandywine than in this little creek, and also falling into the Brandywine was a good deal more dangerous. On the other hand, sitting on that nice wooden dock with their legs hanging over had been much more comfortable than sitting or standing on the rocks in this creek, which were really just stepping stones across it and were not intended or positioned for sitting on.

Well, and in the old days it had all been much simpler, being a child with his older cousins. Pippin was glad for any time he got to spend with them, particularly when it was just the three of them together. Then he liked carrying the fish back to the house and meeting Mother (or Bilbo, or the Brandybucks' cook, depending) in the kitchen, where Merry would say what a good catch Pippin had made. He'd say so again at supper, and Frodo would smile at Pippin and so would his parents. And Pippin felt proud, even though his sisters' faces (and their unfinished plates) told him they weren't especially pleased to be eating fish either.

The visits were more or less the same now as they were then, as far as what the three of them did, but Pippin enjoyed them a good deal less. All the fuss they made over him reminded him of the way grown-ups pat a lad on the head and say he's done a good job -- the point was to make the child feel important, whether or not it was true. And now that Pippin wasn't a child, it didn't feel good anymore. It didn't feel true.

So that evening at Frodo talked about the great big fish Pippin had caught, even though Merry's had been bigger. And they said Pervinca was a fine cook, even though Mother had a lot more to do with how well it turned out.

"You ought to go out to the stream more often, Pippin," his father said, and all three girls glared.

"The stream's not big enough," said Pearl. "There wouldn't be enough fish for us to eat them all the time."

"It wouldn't be very practical in the winter either," said Pippin.

And Mother nodded and smiled, and said that in any case she liked to keep fish for special occasions. "The taste used to remind me of home," she said to their guests (she'd grown up near Frogmorton, on the Banks of the Water), "but now I associate it with your visits in the summer, which we all so enjoy." And the girls agreed with that, at least. Pimpernel said that Merry ought to come more often, and Pearl said that Frodo should. And Pippin, quietly, and for the first time he could remember, disagreed.

This was the last day of their visit, edging now into the last night. And Pippin hadn't spoken to anyone about it, but was beginning to think it ought to be the last visit between the three of them for some time. By the time they were settling into bed he had decided for certain.

Mother would be washing the sheets tomorrow, and that was just as well. For they'd washed after coming back from the stream and before supper, but Pippin didn't think he'd got all the mud out from between his toes or from the hair on his feet, and he knew he hadn't quite got rid of the smell of fish on his hands.

He hadn't known how to ask his mother that there be different arrangements on this visit. He'd stopped asking to be allowed to share a room with them years ago. And no one bothered to ask him these days either -- whether they were here or at Great Smials or Bag End or Brandy Hall, it was nearly always the same. Frodo and Merry shared a room, and whether they said so or not, they shared a bed as well. Mother would know when she came to change the sheets, and Pippin knew from listening to them.

Surely, he thought, hearing a first creaking of the bed next door and a first grunt -- probably from Frodo as Merry shoved him down -- surely they can't think they're being terribly subtle.

If he was one of the visitors he might share a room with some cousin or other or not, but here at Whitwell he nearly always had his own room, just next door to the guestroom where Frodo and Merry slept, and where they did other things. That next creak was probably Merry climbing on top. It was always more or less the same. These noises, like everything else about the visits, were as familiar to Pippin by now as the back of his own hand.

Or the palm. Familiar as Pippin's fingers sliding down, then curling around. He heard Frodo gasp -- quietly, as if still trying to pretend no one else was aware -- and he wondered what Merry's hands were getting up to.

Well, really he didn't know if it was hands or lips or what exactly. There was only so much Pippin could tell from grunts and sighs. Some nights he tried to make up a picture for himself, but tonight the noises themselves were enough, and Pippin stroked himself to the rhythm he could hear rather than to anything he could see with his eyes or in his mind. He sped up as they did, and he felt the tension building along with the noise through the wall. He knew he was coming at the same time as Frodo, for he mouthed the word _Merry_ at the same time Frodo said it, pained and joyful, just as Frodo always did. And Merry was quieter but Pippin heard that too, just a few seconds later, as the rhythm came apart and everything stopped for a little while, and Pippin thought this ought to be enough to make him feel good, but it wasn't.

He moved when they did. Went to the washbasin in by the door at the same time Merry did and washed himself as he knew they were washing each other. He felt sunburned and achy and tired but not sleepy as he lay down again. He felt wet but not clean.

Mother would be changing the sheets in the morning, and Pippin would be making some changes as well.

* * *

He hugged them goodbye, of course, and even kissed them. Frodo said, "I'll be waiting for you next month," and Pippin nodded, not wanting to say it to his face when a letter would do just as well. Saying it out loud to Mother a few hours later was difficult enough. She looked positively distraught, and Pippin hated to be the one to cause her any worry.

"But Pippin, Frodo's birthday. You always go to Bag End in September."

"Not always, Mum. I've gone the past few years is all."

"But why would you stop?"

"But why would I _go_, just because I went last year?" If this was the path to adulthood, perhaps staying a child forever wouldn't be so bad. Pippin felt sulky and stupid and _still_ sunburned. He wasn't doing a good job explaining himself at all. "Please, Mother. I had the impression that you understood."

"I…"

She didn't, really, but she hugged him anyway, for she understood enough to know that was what he needed then, and she didn't press him to explain any more, not that day.


	2. Two

Then, as it happened, over two years passed before he saw either of them again.

Except that it wasn't just _as it happened_. It took effort and planning on Pippin's part. It took an understanding between him and his mother, so that visits were made less frequently, and when the families did come together Pippin arranged to spend the time with other friends or relatives instead. Pippin built up his tolerance for the company of hobbits his own age, especially those strange cousins up at Long Cleeve, who never patted him on the head or said he was immature but who (for all their fame as descendents of the Bullroarer) weren't nearly as daring or as interesting as Frodo and Merry.

It took tears, at times, but after the first few months it got easier. The letters came less frequently and were shorter and more… polite, which made it easier for Pippin to write his own formal replies, even though it still felt a bit like play-acting, pretending he didn't love them and miss them so much it hurt.

Then in the middle of August, two years to the day after that last parting, a letter came from Bag End that could not have been written out of politeness. Frodo's hand was strong and clear and confident as ever. He'd not spilled ink or crossed out any words, but he had changed his mind, contradicted himself several times in the course of five dense pages. Apologized, said he didn't think he had anything to apologize for, then begged Pippin to tell him what he'd done wrong.

And Pippin, rather than try to answer all those questions, addressed only the simplest and most practical, which was at the same time the most difficult.

My dear Frodo,

     Of course I will come and celebrate your birthday with you. I am terribly sorry to have missed it these last years. Merry and I shall meet at Great Smials on the twelfth, if it pleases him, and we'll walk to Bag End from there. Thank you for inviting me again, Frodo. I know you might have given up on me and I'm glad you didn't.


  
Well, and there were too many directions it could go from there, so he cut it off with a _your loving cousin_ and folded it up, then wrote an even shorter little something to Merry.

After which he spent several weeks hoping, and at times even believing, that everything would be all right.

* * *

When Merry saw Pippin he stared a little and searched for something to say, then came up with, "You're taller." Pippin knew this wasn't actually true, but he was more or less happy with it anyway. Still, it wouldn't do to say so.

"And you're uglier," Pippin lied.

Merry laughed then and hugged him, squeezed the breath out of him, and when he'd been released again Pippin said, "All right, you're just as handsome as ever, and you're also stronger."

Merry had arrived just in time for supper, which, since it was Great Smials, meant a crowd. Nel flirted shamelessly with Merry while Myrtle and Minto Burrows (who were also visiting) competed for Pippin's attention. Merry and Pippin exchanged knowing glances, and Pippin almost wished that Mother had given them a room to share tonight so that they might exchange some gossip as well. No matter, there'd be plenty of time for that. And when they did retire for the night Pippin was glad to have the time to himself and time to think. And what he thought was that he'd been right to hold on to his hope. Perhaps it really would be like old times, or perhaps it would be a little better.

It was a surprise, then, once they'd set out again the next morning, to find that Merry went quiet and serious again, and his presence rather reminded Pippin of his letters -- distant, polite, and a little bit cold. He didn't rebuke Pippin or even mention the great rift, and Pippin mostly felt relieved about that, and yet… Well, it seemed a little strange, as if Merry were pretending that nothing had happened at all, that there was nothing out of the ordinary about them being together again, or about their having been apart for so long.

They set off just after sunrise to avoid the worst heat of the day, and they cut across country and made good time. The trail through the woods was a bit overgrown, and Pippin remembered how they used to say they were the only three to use this route. In truth plenty of hobbits traveled from Tuckborough to Hobbiton and back, but they'd always liked to think, and say, that they were three of a kind.

"How is Frodo, really?" said Pippin, because he hadn't been satisfied with the pleasantries that had been exchanged in his parents' and sisters' presence.

"Well, you'd know if you visited, wouldn't you?"

Pippin frowned. "Perhaps so, but I haven't, so I'm asking you instead."

Merry walked a few more steps before speaking. "Frodo's well. He thinks too much."

"That's saying something, coming from you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Both of you always think too much," Pippin said with a shrug. "It's part of your character."

"Meaning we need you to balance things out?"

"Well, come to mention it. I used to hate being the third wheel, but three balance better than two, wouldn't you say?"

There, he'd gone and said it out loud. And rather than stop short or berate him, Merry laughed and squeezed his shoulder, and Pippin kept his stride and his wits and did not stumble or break down.

The sun was higher and brighter by the time they made it out of the woods, and their conversation had warmed a bit as well, though there was still a good deal of tension in the air. When they came out into the light Merry looked Pippin up and down. "You're not any taller," he said.

"No, of course not." Pippin kept on walking. "I was full grown the last time you saw me. You just never noticed is all."

"That's not fair, Pippin."

Pippin smiled, the kind of quick smile he would make sometimes to keep from snapping at someone. He wasn't sure if Merry saw it or not. "Fairness has nothing to do with it."

"No, I suppose not."

Pippin meant that Merry had never been fair, and Merry meant, probably, that he shouldn't _have_ to be fair, that love never was, which was a position Pippin didn't accept. But he decided to leave it alone for now. They were talking, and, "I'm taller than you remember me, anyway. I'll take that as a good sign."

"It's… I do think you understood from the first, didn't you? Not taller."

"Yes, I understood. Just as tall as you and Frodo, and older than you remembered. I said I'd take it as a good sign." He smiled again and it felt real this time, and he let Merry see.

"I _am_ glad you decided to come, Pippin."

"So am I."

Some time later they spread out a blanket on the grass and sat down to eat some bread and cheese they'd brought along. They'd also brought peaches for dessert, but once they bit into them the juice started dripping down both their chins, and rather than get it on the blanket they stood up and leaned forward to let it drip on the grass. They were both laughing and the sun was quite hot, and Pippin felt sure now that things were going to work out. And when he'd dropped his peach stone on the grass he took a few short steps and pressed close to his dear cousin and kissed his sweet, wet lips.

It lasted a few seconds before Merry pulled away. And Pippin had been expecting that, though he thought, well, he could have been a little less violent about it.

"Pippin, you're…"

"I'm sorry," Pippin said, though he wasn't really, and he resolved not to say so again.

"I don't… I don't want that from you." Merry took another step away and folded his arms across his chest.

"That's not true," Pippin said quietly. "You know it and I know it."

"What is it we both know, Pip?"

"That you got hard when I tried to kiss you. I felt it."

"Pippin."

"And that means you're interested, even if you're not willing to say so."

"It means no such thing. It's a physical..."

Pippin clenched his fists then and whimpered a little so that he wouldn't scream. "No, Merry. Don't _talk_ to me about physical reactions. I've had about all I can stand of calm and mature and bloody _removed_. I've waited, don't you see? You never thought I was old enough but you see I am now, and I'm here, and I want you to be here with me and I want you to be honest. I think I deserve that."

"It isn't that you're not old enough. I see we were wrong about that before, though if it upset you so you could have just said, rather than cut us off for…." Merry stopped himself and relaxed a little, took a step toward him. "Pippin, you know I care for you."

"If you did you'd not try to deny that -- "

"You know I care for you and I hope you know how lovely you are. I see the way other lads and lasses look at you. You'll make one of them so happy, Pippin."

"I'm not interested in anyone else."

"What, of all the hobbits in the Shire you only want me?" Pippin didn't see what was so unreasonable about the idea. "I _would_, dear. I'd show you how at least, but I'm taken. You know that."

"Of all the hobbits in the Shire I love you and Frodo best. Why shouldn't I get to be with the two of you?"

"Because that's not how it works, is it? You can have as many friends as you want, and you can love them, just as you love both your parents and all your sisters."

Pippin grimaced a little at that, because he hadn't felt much love for or from his sisters lately, but he didn't interrupt.

"You only fall _in_ love with one person though," Merry continued. "And I fell for Frodo ages ago."

"Just because it happened one way for you doesn't mean that's the only way it _can_ happen," said Pippin. "I fell for both of you before I even knew what that meant -- "

"But you think you know everything, now, is that it?"

"Oh, come off it, Merry!" Pippin shouted. "You've lived longer than me but that doesn't mean you know everything either. Fine then, enlighten me. Explain to me what makes two the magic number. And don't say it takes two to make a baby because I don't think you and Frodo will be accomplishing that."

"Well it's not as if it's just me. I didn't pick a number out of the air or do it to spite you. It's _always_ two. It's always been that way."

Suddenly feeling much calmer, Pippin folded up the blanket and stowed it in his pack. "That's not how you and Frodo taught me to think," he said simply.

"What?"

Pippin looked at him. "Your explanation isn't good enough for me," he said, and started along the path again.

It was another two miles to Bag End, and they walked the rest of the way in silence.


	3. Three

The two of them kissed on the doorstep, and Pippin realized that Merry was probably putting on a bit of a show for his benefit, but he found he didn't mind very much. He liked that it should be more public, that any of the neighbors who happened by would be able to see. He thought this was probably something that had changed in the years they'd been apart, and besides being something beautiful to look at, it was probably for the best. Merry and Frodo weren't worried about creating a scandal, and that was probably why there wasn't any scandal. There was nothing furtive, ashamed, or shameful about their affair, just two hobbits in love. So Pippin refrained from rolling his eyes and cleared his throat instead.

"Pippin," said Frodo, enfolding him. "My dear Pippin, welcome. It's been far too long."

"Thank you, Frodo," Pippin said. "I am glad to see you again."

"And I am happy to have the three of us together."

To Pippin's surprise, Merry didn't mention the incident or the argument that had come up along the way. He stayed tense, but Frodo's company softened him enough that they were all able to make polite conversation over luncheon, engage in full-fledged gossip by teatime, and laugh themselves to tears at dinner. They shared a bottle of Old Winyards over supper and a pouch full of Longbottom Leaf afterwards, and nobody said anything about going to fish at Bywater Pool.

Pippin still didn't want to apologize, but by the time they were sitting outside and smoking their pipes he was beginning to regret some of the things he'd said and done. Perhaps Merry was right, really. It wasn't about fairness. Merry and Frodo weren't obligated to want him, just because he wanted them. You couldn't force that kind of thing by arguing.

They'd wanted him to act more like a grown-up, and he thought he did, for the most part, but really, wasn't this a very childish kind of jealousy? Didn't he love them, and hadn't he always loved them? And if so, why on earth should it make him unhappy to see the two of them happy together?

Pippin resolved to put all such resentments behind him and to enjoy this friendship for all it was worth, and he was not troubled by the fact that he'd resolved the exact same thing quite a few times in the past. They had another bottle (and also some chocolates) before they went to bed, and Pippin fell asleep without touching himself or thinking about who was touching whom in the next room, but he thought that when their other friends and cousins came to town next week he should try to kiss Minto Burrows, or maybe Folco Boffin. And if he pretended he was kissing Merry or Frodo, no one ever need know.  
Things didn't feel quite as right with the world when he woke up (Pippin found the sunlight coming in through his window to be particularly offensive), but he still thought he should be able to get through the day, and perhaps even the fortnight, without starting another great rift.

In the afternoon Frodo sent Merry to the market for milk and eggs.

"He's always making these annoying tsking noises when he finds out how much I paid for something or other," Frodo told Pippin once they were alone in the parlor. "I can't imagine he thinks I'm going to use up all Bilbo's gold just on feeding myself and a few guests, but, well, if it's that important to him, I figure he can do the haggling himself."

"Do you argue about it?" Pippin wanted to know.

"About the price of flour? Not really. But he… Well, you know him. He has that tendency to get little things tied up and confused with bigger things, and we do end up arguing about those sometimes."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, like he'll say Sandyman's got more power than is good for him, and I shouldn't encourage him by paying him whatever sum he suggests. Or he'll say Bilbo should have done a better job teaching me how to live on my own. Somehow or other it always seems to come back to what Bilbo could have done differently."

Pippin recognized the sad smile that Frodo always wore when he spoke of Bilbo, and it occurred to him that he knew Frodo's smiles very well, and he had missed them a good deal in the time they'd spent apart.

"He never wanted you to come here in the first place, did he?" said Pippin.

"Well, it would have saved him quite a few trips across the East Farthing if I'd stayed put, wouldn't it?"

"He wants to have you all to himself," Pippin said softly.

Frodo considered this. "I'm not sure about that. He likes being with me, but that doesn't mean he doesn't want anyone else around."

Pippin nodded, chastened. He hadn't meant to bring this up again, particularly not with Frodo, who was being so kind to him and was still apparently unaware of the words Merry and Pippin had had after peaches.

"He hasn't…." Frodo was peering at him now and Pippin knew he should have kept quiet. "Has he told you he doesn't want you around? That he doesn't want you with us?"

"No, Frodo, of course not. You know he wouldn't."

"But has he… Have you felt you're not welcome?"

"No, Frodo! He… Look, I realize I shouldn't have… I realize it was wrong of me to stay away for so long. It wasn't anything that Merry said or that you did, it was just… It just didn't feel good to me. He hasn't kept me away. _I'm_ responsible, I know that, and I'm sorry, I…"

He was speaking without thinking now and before he knew it Frodo had his arms around him and was stroking his back. "Shhh, none of that, now. I'll not have you apologizing for being sad."

"But I handled it all wrong," Pippin said, not wanting to hold back any longer. "I should have just learned to be happy for you in the first place, and if I was unhappy I should have come to you and said so and not just… not just gone away, when that only made you feel bad as well, and that wasn't what I meant to do, Frodo, I never…"

"No, no." Frodo was holding him tight and that felt so warm and safe and so very good that Pippin, who'd kept relatively calm through all the arguments, found he had tears in his eyes and was holding back a sob. "Look, we've all survived, haven't we? We've missed you, but you're here now and I mean to enjoy having you."

"I do too," Pippin said, his voice cracking, "and I _have_ enjoyed… just this last day, being here again, and -- "

"And the journey here?"

"Yes, that too." Pippin took a breath controlled his voice then, for he meant to control what he said as well, if they were going to speak of this.

Frodo pulled away to look at him. "Right, so we've established that I'm not angry, and we won't waste time going over what we should or shouldn't have said or done in the past. But if there's something that's bothering you now, Pippin, I want to know what it is." And he offered him a handkerchief.

Pippin hesitated, then took it and dabbed at his eyes. "It wasn't anything he did wrong," he said. "He was right and I was -- "

"We're not deciding that," said Frodo. "We're just getting everything out in the open."

"He didn't say anything to you about it?" Pippin wondered, not for the first time, about all the conversations they would have had about him while he wasn't around.

"No, nothing about the journey here. I asked him about it and he started talking about your sisters."

Pippin snorted, then decided to blow his nose, and Frodo gave him some room, but when he was done Frodo held him again.

"How was it, then?"

"It was fine, mostly," said Pippin. "It was a walk. It's a path I used to like walking a lot and, you know, I do like his company."

"Yes."

"He's a lot better than Myrtle, anyway."

"Well, yes."

"But I shouldn't have tried to kiss him."

"Ah." Frodo smiled, and kissed Pippin on the forehead.

"You know that's not what I mean though, don't you?"

"Yes. You mean something more like this." Then it happened, as easily as he had come to be in Frodo's arms, he was being kissed. And it was just as he had always hoped, not the greedy kisses Merry took but a movement just like Frodo, warm and gentle and open, and his tongue moving lightly between Pippin's lips and teeth and in, while all the while his hands moved on Pippin's back, soothing him, telling him he was just where he belonged. It didn't last very long, but while it did it was perfect.

Then Frodo pulled away to look at him again, and Pippin remembered that they'd been having something like a conversation.

"Er, no, not very much like that, actually," Pippin said. "I mean, it was good, because we'd been having peaches and all, but… it wasn't as nice as that. Because he didn't want it, you see."

Frodo nodded. "Or that's what he told you, anyway."

"Yes."

"That's all right then."

"But you don't mind, do you, Frodo."

"No, Pip, I wouldn't have kissed you if I minded."

"Well, good. But I still shouldn't have done it."

"Was it what you wanted?"

"Of course!"

"And did you say so?"

"Yes!" He thought a bit. "Well, yes. Only afterwards though."

Frodo chuckled a little and Pippin hung his head, but a peck on the lips had him looking up again. "We're not deciding right and wrong and should have and shouldn't have," Frodo said again, "though it's true that it's best not to spring those kinds of surprises on Merry. He likes a chance to think through things, you know. I'm glad you told me."

"Thank you, Frodo," said Pippin. "I'm glad I said it too, or at least I think I am. And I know I'm glad you kissed me."

Frodo laughed out loud then. "So am I, Pippin. So am I."  
When Merry got back Frodo asked to have a word with him in the bedroom, and they went, and Pippin stayed out in the parlor to listen. It wasn't familiar, not like listening to bedsprings and grunts and sighs. It was tense voices and words that he couldn't make out, and silences filled with even more tension, and then voices raised higher.

Pippin thought about how happy he'd been when Frodo kissed him, and he wondered how something as pleasant as that could lead to something as uncomfortable as this. And he tried not to wonder whether this, as unpleasant as it was, might somehow lead to more of those kisses, and to things even better than that, if such things could be imagined.

Then the shouting stopped and Frodo came back out to where Pippin was standing stock still in the center of the room. Frodo took his hand and said, "Come talk with us."

Pippin moved as Frodo pulled him, but he said, "I don't want to, Frodo."

"It's all right, Pip," Frodo said, though now he was looking at Merry. "We're not upset. You've done nothing wrong."

There was enough forcefulness in his voice though and enough anger in both their faces that Pippin had a hard time believing his words.

"Frodo wants me to apologize," said Merry, "for hurting your feelings or for -- "

"That's not what I want," Frodo said, cutting him off. "And if it _were_ you'd not get anywhere by beginning with 'Frodo wants me to.' What I want is for you to say why you wouldn't let him kiss you when we all know… Or, no, we don't need to dwell on that either. But tell us if you'll let him kiss you now, and if you won't, tell us why not."

"Why is this suddenly something that needs to be explained?!" Pippin winced at Merry's words. "I'm in love with you, Frodo. I don't have a logical explanation for wanting to make love to you and not to someone else."

"But have you even considered the idea, Merry? I mean really, really thought about it. And not just with 'someone else,' I mean with Pippin, our Pippin."

"But that's just it, isn't it? He's our Pippin. Are you seriously asking me why I don't want to shag our little cousin Pippin?"

"I'm not, no, because he's not our little cousin Pippin anymore, is he?"

"I should go," said Pippin, and he startled when they both glared at him.

"Don't go anywhere" said Merry.

"I mean, I won't go away again, not for very long, but I'll just… leave you to sort this out for yourselves, yes? And I won't ask for… I mean, it's all right, I shouldn't have -- "

"Be quiet, Pippin, we're having a conversation."

There was not very much joy in seeing Frodo roll his eyes at the same time Pippin did, but there was a bit. Some satisfaction.

"My dear Merry," said Frodo, "you are aware, I hope, that I was going on fourteen years old when you were born?"

"I -- Yes," Merry stammered. "I don't think about it so much, but -- "

"Did it ever occur to you that your birth marked the end of the time when I was the most important child in your parents' life?"

Merry had no answer for that.

"All right then. And I won't say I didn't have my sullen, selfish moments. But I came to love you, _as one loves a little baby brother_. You won't remember, of course, but I used to help feed you and bathe you and change your nappies. Now, I hope you don't believe that I was ever thinking, in those years, about how much I'd like to shag you once you got a little older."

Merry and Pippin both stared, shocked, but Merry coughed, and managed to get out, "No, Frodo."

"Thank you. You're both looking at me like I'm completely bonkers now, but I do have a point."

"Yes, you always do," said Merry. "You'll always prove yourself right in the end. I think I know already." He sounded a little weary. "It's... Relationships change, yes? We don't look at each other the same way after a year or ten or twenty."

"It's not so difficult, is it, cousin? Look, Pippin's been very clever. We've missed him, but it's probably for the best, what he's done. We were so close to him before that we couldn't see him changing. But now we've spent this time apart and we can see the differences. Or I can, anyway. Pippin, you have the most beautiful mouth I've ever seen on a lad."

"Oi!" Merry objected.

"Merry, you have the most talented mouth of anyone I've ever known, but Pippin's is prettier. Just… This is what I'm saying -- you need to take a step back in order to see properly."

"It's not... I'm not saying that Pippin should never be an adult or get a chance to have sex with anyone. Why, I told him myself on the way here that... And I know that..." Merry had to keep pausing to think, to breathe, and here he took a deeper breath before plunging ahead with the next sentence. "I know that he's older now than I was when you and I started."

Pippin made a small noise. He had not known this.

"But that doesn't mean he needs to be with me or with you, Frodo," Merry continued. "You and I are... You and I..."

Frodo dropped his adversarial stance and tone now, and went to Merry and put his arms around his waist. "You and I love each other," he said. "I love you madly, Merry, I have for all these years we've been lovers. And I love being with you. And I know you love me." He paused, kissed Merry's forehead, then rested his head on Merry's shoulder. "But that doesn't mean we're the only two who can be together, the same way, forever and always."

Merry was wrapped in Frodo's arms, and Pippin would have given anything to be part of that, but Merry made a noise like he was being strangled, then said, uncertainly, "You're not going to leave me, Frodo."

And Frodo immediately hushed him, then kissed his cheek, rubbed his back, and Pippin felt miserable, envious and guilty at once. "Of course not, dear," Frodo said sincerely. "I'll not stop loving you and I'll not leave you. But look, Merry, here's our dear friend Pippin, and he's not trying to come between us, unless it's..." They were both, indeed, looking at Pippin now, much as Pippin would have liked to disappear, and Frodo said, "Come here, Pip. Three hobbits can hug, we've done that often enough, though not enough lately."

Pippin hesitated. The circle of arms, the closeness of Merry and Frodo didn't seem like something that would ever let him inside. But he made himself walk over to where they were standing together, and he never saw the two of them separate, but then he was with them, with an arm around each, and with Frodo whispering in his ear, "Don't be unhappy, dear Pippin. You've done nothing wrong at all. I am so happy to have you here."  
"Right," said Pippin, after several minutes had passed and the hug was beginning to get a little stifling. "Are we all sorted then?"

"Oh, not nearly," said Frodo.

"I mean, are we…"

"Shouldn't we…" said Merry. "We've only just accepted that we're going to do this. Shouldn't we wait a little while?"

"You mean until later tonight?" said Frodo.

"Well, I was thinking of a few days, at least, to get… reacquainted with one another, you know."

"We've known Pippin his whole life. Is there anything else you need to tell us about yourself before we have sex, Pip?"

"No," Pippin said confidently.

"Come, Merry," said Frodo, "we've waited two years. No need to go on putting it off."

"And I've been waiting a lot longer than that," Pippin put in.

Merry sighed, which annoyed Pippin a little, but he kept quiet about it. "So what do we... What do we _do_?" Merry asked.

"I can't say I know," said Frodo. "I've never tried it with more than two. I suppose we'll have to play it by ear."

"I shouldn't have asked for this," said Pippin. "I'm sorry, Frodo, Merry, I shouldn't..."

And Frodo immediately took a step back. "Do you want to stop, Pippin?"

"I don't want to make you two angry. I don't want to get in the way."

"It's all right, Pippin," Merry said gently. "I'm not angry now. I shouldn't have said the things I did. It's different, it's strange for me, but I do want to give it a try. If you're still game, that is."

Pippin looked down and realized he had been thrusting a little against Merry's leg, and he was not at all sure how long that had been going on.

"Well, I think it's pretty obvious I'm still up for it."

Merry grinned. "Physical reaction," he said. "Still doesn't mean you can't stop if you'd rather. Just tell us, dear."

"I don't want to stop. I want..." but he wasn't sure what words to put to it at the moment.

"What about that kiss then?" said Merry. "I didn't give you much of a chance yesterday."

"Well, that's very true."

"You know, Frodo, he really does have a very nice mouth."

"That's right. You needed to take a step away. And then of course you needed to take a few steps closer."

They were all still standing very close now, still had their arms around each other, though they were no longer squeezing as they had been, and then Merry moved closer so his face was all Pippin could see, and then he moved closer still.

And it was different from Frodo's kiss, more tentative and at the same time, somehow, more eager. As if Merry still wasn't quite sure this was the right thing to do, so he needed to explore, gather all the information he could. Merry's tongue was curious, and so, of course, was Pippin's, and so there was a certain symmetry that Pippin liked very much, and it was different from Frodo's kiss but not better or worse, and it lasted longer.

Hands moved on Pippin's back, and he thought it might be the two of them clasping hands before Frodo's hand moved lower. And he wasn't gentling Pippin as he had before but seemingly touching him for his own pleasure, as he moved to the waist of Pippin's trousers and slipped his fingers underneath the cloth, yes, the lightest touch on Pippin's skin, and both of them moaned quietly, and Merry moaned back into Pippin's mouth, and Pippin pressed his whole body closer against Merry's.

When the kiss ended he was staring in to Merry's eyes, and Merry was staring back and Pippin felt a little dazed and couldn't see very clearly, but somehow speaking was easy. "I want that," he said clearly. "And I want to make love."

"Good then," said Frodo, "as long as we're all of one mind. Come, Pippin, you're not steady on your feet."

Frodo always did seem to speak the truth. As soon as he said it, Pippin felt himself wavering, leaning into his cousins' arms. And his cousins caught him, and held him. Frodo moved behind him and pulled at his arms, and before Pippin knew what was happening he was falling gently back and then sitting with his bottom just at the edge of the bed, Frodo a warm and solid presence behind him, never letting him go.

"Merry..." Pippin said nervously, wondering where he'd got to.

"Don't worry," said Frodo, "Merry's fine. Just don't ask him to talk much for a little while.

Frodo held him by the hips, which was a good thing, since as soon as Pippin relocated Merry -- kneeling on the floor just in front of them and pressing the heel of his hand against the bulge in Pippin's breeches -- he started jerking forward, and he might well have fallen off the bed if not for Frodo's strong grip.

"You're ready for me now, yes?" said Merry, starting to undo Pippin's buttons.

"I've been ready," said Pippin. "I've been waiting. Oh, Frodo, why does he draw it out so?"

"Oh, this is nothing, he's being positively efficient with you."

"But he's -- oh!"

He was indeed, as was Pippin.

"That's very nice," said Merry.

"You see? I told you Pippin was beautiful."

"No, I never tried to argue with you about that. I just didn't… Right then. Help me out, would you, Frodo?"

And Frodo did, lifting Pippin's hips to make it easier for Merry to pull off his trousers and then throw them across the room, and when that was done they settled him down again, and it was Merry holding him down while Frodo set about removing Pippin's shirt. And Pippin didn't have to devote much attention to the inconvenience of buttons this time because then they were kissing him again, both at the same time, Frodo kissing up his neck and Merry, and Merry…

"Merry!" Pippin yelled, and Frodo paused with the buttons to hug him and paused with the kisses to rest his chin on Pippin's shoulder, and Merry pulled away, which was the last thing Pippin had wanted.

"Is it too much?" Merry said quickly. "Is it too fast?"

"No!" Pippin shouted again, and thrashed a little against his cousins' arms. "It's not too… It's…"

"Go on, Merry, he wasn't complaining."

And Merry did go on, got his whole mouth on Pippin this time and started sucking, and it took all Pippin's effort not to cry out again, for he'd never felt anything so wonderful, but he didn't want to raise an alarm again or do anything else to make Merry stop doing what he was doing.

"Deep breaths," Frodo murmured, close to his ear. Pippin realized then that he could feel Frodo's chest rising and falling behind him, and he did his best to breathe in time with him. "That's it," said Frodo, "that's perfect, Pippin, you're doing so well."

Pippin wasn't really doing anything much beyond breathing, which took a good deal of concentration, but he was grateful for the reassurance. He found he was able to keep relatively still, and Merry's hands relaxed enough on his hips that he could thrust forward just a bit, and Merry moved with him, allowed for the movement and took all of him in, and Pippin could feel a strange and delicious squeezing at the tip as Merry easily, _gracefully_, swallowed.

"How can he...?"

"He's had practice," said Frodo, who, also seemingly satisfied with Pippin's relatively controlled breaths and movements, had finished taking off the shirt and laid it down on the bed. He moved his hands gently over Pippin's chest, and when he let two fingers stop to caress a nipple Pippin abandoned all control again and cried out, and jerked violently in Merry's mouth, and this time they didn't call off what they were doing. Frodo pinched harder and mouthed the tip of Pippin's ear, and Merry didn't pull away.

Pippin thought of all the times he'd come in his own hands, and it had always felt good, but it had never felt anything like this. The sensation was strong enough to border on pain, and the semen spurting out of him was more, it must be more than it had ever been, and yet Merry took it all, and continued to suck and continued to swallow until it was all gone and Pippin's spasms subsided. And as the tension drained out of him below, he turned his head to kiss Frodo, yes, that was just what he wanted, warm and wet and moving, always moving, and somehow with Frodo it always felt like giving. Pippin could still feel both their mouths on him at once and he thought he would moan again but soon found that he was laughing instead, and then so was Frodo.

"What does he taste like?" Frodo asked softly, and Merry came up and leaned forward to kiss him while Pippin let his head fall back on Frodo's shoulder.

"That's," said Pippin, and adjectives chased each other around in his head -- _obscene, gorgeous, mine_ \-- but couldn't find their way to his lips. And he wondered how he'd come to be lying on his back, with Frodo underneath him and Merry on top of him, still with their mouths locked together, still with Pippin's and Frodo's feet dangling off the edge of the bed. Pippin was struggling to breathe and at the same time really quite glad to be watching what he was watching, and from so very close.

"I _am_ glad you're here, Pip!" Frodo said brightly once he and Merry had finally broken the kiss. "Probably you're not especially keen on being squeezed between us at the moment though."

"It's fine," Pippin said lazily.

"Sure it is, but it'll be even better once we can breathe. Don't worry, dear, we won't abandon you. Get up, Merry, there's a good lad; give a hobbit some room."

And Pippin was sad to lose the contact with Merry's skin, not to mention the sight of Frodo and Merry's kiss, but it was indeed good to feel the pressure lifted from his chest. Frodo shifted and pulled until Pippin was lying flat on his back, entirely on the bed, and he wasn't sure where Merry had gone but he felt a hand in his and believed the promise that he wouldn't be left alone. He breathed deeply and shut his eyes. He heard more laughter, and murmurs, and the noises of mouths and bodies connecting, but none of it seemed as urgent or important as it had before. He let his mind drift.

He was more than a little angry with himself when he opened his eyes, because not only had Frodo and Merry got all their clothes off but Merry had two fingers inside Frodo, and Pippin would have liked very much to have seen how both those things had happened.

They'd moved a few feet away, still on the bed, and Pippin sat up to get a better look, without moving closer. It was then that he understood two things that had rather mystified him for years.

The first one was the importance of oil. Because he'd tried many times to imagine how two males could, well, connect, and had simply never managed it, even though he had plenty of evidence that it did, in fact, happen. He'd even tried pushing a finger inside himself once or twice, but could barely take the thought of anything bigger. But here was Frodo with a little glass bottle in one hand, and both hands covered with the stuff. Frodo was on his back, his knees bent, his feet flat on the sheets, and Merry was kneeling up close to him, knees on either side of Frodo's hips. Frodo's other hand was moving on both of their cocks, though with somewhat more attention to Merry's; he was not so much stroking (though Merry was jerking into it to an extent) as spreading, getting as much oil over as much surface area as possible. And clearly their hands had tangled enough earlier that there was a good deal of oil on the fingers Merry was using to stretch Frodo's opening as well. It was all rather a mess and the whole sight was, Pippin thought, breathtakingly beautiful.

The other thing that Pippin understood then (as Frodo whispered, "Just a little deeper, Merry, lower..." and then took to writhing and cursing) was that Frodo very much the one in charge of making things go properly here.

Pippin knew well enough that if two lads were going to go at it then one would be on top and the other on the bottom. He had an idea of how that usually went between these two, between things they said and things he heard from the next room and the way Frodo sometimes moved in the morning. Pippin had always thought it must hurt Frodo and that had made him resent Merry for other reasons than jealousy.

"Three," said Frodo, and after a bit more twisting Merry slid the two fingers out, rubbed the fingers together to spread out the oil some more, and slid back in with three.

What Pippin saw now was that if Frodo was going to be on the bottom, it was because Frodo wanted it that way, and Frodo was getting exactly what he wanted.

"That's enough," Frodo said, not really sounding like he meant it. "That's good, Merry, you can..." and Merry nodded, and slowly withdrew his fingers. Frodo's spine and his whole body tensed then and, despite his words, his arse lifted and seemed to push forward, toward Merry, as if he hadn't had enough and was reluctant to let him go.

"Pippin's awake," Merry announced, not taking his eyes or his concentration away from Frodo for an instant. As soon as his fingers were free he slipped both hands underneath Frodo's buttocks to keep him lifted, just a bit, and to pull him closer, up onto his lap.

"Glad you decided to join us, Pip," said Frodo. He'd let go of his own cock and only held Merry's, still slick with the oil and now just poking at Frodo's opening, and again Frodo's arse was pushing, was ready and eager to take him in.

_I wasn't sleeping_, Pippin was going to say, but then Merry said, "Ready, Frodo?" and Frodo nodded emphatically, and then Merry, slowly, easily, impossibly, was sliding in. And Frodo's eyes were bigger than Pippin had ever seen them (which was saying a lot), and with Merry's cock halfway inside everything stopped, and Merry stared down at Frodo and waited.

"Keep..." said Frodo, and Merry pushed forward until he was buried all the way, and again they froze, as everyone waited to see if Frodo would continue to breathe.

"I want..." Pippin gasped, "I want to do that!"

After a few more seconds Frodo got his breath back, and rather than say anything to Merry he chuckled, and then said, "You will, Pippin. Not tonight though."

"But I want..."

"Come here, Pippin." Frodo was staring straight ahead, in Merry's direction but with his eyes unfocused. But the hand that had guided Merry's cock and was now empty thumped frantically by his side on the bed, and Pippin came up to kneel next to where the two of them were joined. He stared in awe as Merry pulled back and out an inch and then thrust back in with a grunt. What must he be feeling at this moment? And Frodo...

"Oh, Merry, just like that." Frodo's hand was flailing again and it knocked at Pippin's knee. "Your hand, Pip," he whispered urgently. And Pippin realized with a shock that he'd had both hands on his own cock, had even begun tugging at the erection that had come back as he watched his cousins together. He flushed in embarrassment but then thought that Merry and Frodo really both had more pressing matters to occupy their attention than the fact that Pippin was touching himself in their presence. And Frodo's hand, again, this time hit Pippin's thigh. Pippin let go of his cock and caught Frodo's hand with one of his own.

"Much better," Frodo panted, "if we do it" -- and he was pulling Pippin's hand in between the two bucking bodies -- "together." And Pippin felt his hand, in Frodo's hand, brought to wrap around Frodo's cock, hot and hard and poking at Merry's belly whenever Merry thrust, as he was doing more and more quickly. "In rhythm," said Frodo, still grasping Pippin's hand and moving it up and down to match the pace Merry had set, "like this." As soon as Pippin had found the rhythm Frodo released his hand and reached out again, knocked again against Pippin's knees, his thighs, till finally he found Pippin's cock. And Pippin cried out at the first contact, thought he might come just from the knowledge of how all three of their bodies were now connected. Because for all the times he'd wished Frodo and Merry might let him in to this part of their lives, he'd never quite been able to picture how it might be.

And this was a good deal more stimulating than a picture.

If Pippin had been able to form words, he would have agreed, it was _much_ better together. Instead he simply yelled nonsense sounds, beyond words, beyond thoughts, beyond anything he'd ever felt before. Pippin leaned forward to get more of his body closer to the other two, to make it easier for Frodo to grip him harder, and unexpectedly he found his mouth caught in Merry's. And _caught_ was the right word -- Merry was sucking hard, had his teeth on Pippin's lips so Pippin couldn't have pulled away if he'd wanted to.

Pippin didn't want to pull away. He'd been trying to use his free hand to balance but now he gave that up as folly and instead he reached for Merry's head and tangled his fingers through the curls. He pressed in to push Merry's mouth open wider, and dove in with his tongue and sucked back. And as their tongues slid in and out Pippin could feel the motion of all of Merry's body, as his cock slid in and out of Frodo, and Frodo was moving with the same rhythm in Pippin's hand, and Pippin in the same rhythm in Frodo's. All of it was mad and awkward and precarious and Pippin knew that at any moment he was likely to tip over the edge, and when he did he would probably collapse into the others and get everyone rather badly injured, but there wasn't much he could or would do to change that right now. _This_ was what he wanted, to be joined with the two of them in as many ways as possible -- because this was more intense than anything he'd felt in his life, but he also knew that it was just the beginning. There would be more, much more, if not tonight then tomorrow, and the next day, and Pippin saw no reason why they should ever stop -- the three of them, in love, in passion, in knots.

Tip, pull and push and twist and tug, over the edge. It had felt like falling before, when he'd been held firmly in Frodo's arms and sucked skillfully in Merry's mouth. This time it was not only Pippin's conscious mind but his whole body falling, and he lost the kiss with Merry but managed to hold on to Frodo's cock as it swelled and pulsed and spurted in his hand, in time with his own, and it took Frodo's scream in his ear to tell Pippin just where and how he'd fallen. Then Merry followed them, came, and let his torso come down on theirs, and for a long while no one moved. Each had had his release, and yet they did not let go, did not separate or untangle. Pippin could barely breathe and he didn't care.

He was very happy.

"I think we'll keep playing it by ear then," said Frodo after a very long time.

"Yes," Merry agreed, "that worked out rather well, for all the lack of planning and the, er, ridiculous reluctance on my part. Sorry about that, by the way, Pip."

"Nnngh," Pippin said munificently.

"It was convenient," said Frodo, "the extra... hands. Makes it easier than when it's just the two of us trying to coordinate everything so that we can both -- "

"Yes," Merry said firmly.

"Wouldn't you agree, Pippin?"

Pippin assented with another grunt, and shifted enough to allow Frodo to slide out from under him. He was lying on his back again, soon enough, with no more elbows or knees poking into him, and then he felt a warm wet cloth on his skin. Pippin's eyes were closed and he didn't know who was cleaning him up, but he knew he was being taken care of by someone who loved him. He relaxed and breathed and let himself be moved, didn't try to make out the soft words that floated around him. After a little while he was turned on his side and he felt a warm body in front of him and another behind him. He held and was held, and it was only when he heard Merry's voice low in his ear that he knew what arrangement the three of them had ended up in.

"You don't get in the way, Pippin," Merry said. "I like us just like this. And we love you like this. We always loved you, you know that, but when you -- "

"Merry," said Frodo, his voice sounding a bit muffled from where his head was curled against Pippin's chest, "it's all right. Tell him in the morning when he's awake and he can hear you."

Pippin could have said he was awake, but he'd understood already and he was too happy to contradict Frodo or Merry over anything at all. So Merry stopped speaking and laid a single tender kiss on Pippin's head. He squeezed Pippin gently in his arms, and Frodo and Pippin squeezed back and then went still, and breathed together until they drifted to sleep.


	4. drabble epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dana asked for a sequel taking place the next day.

Pippin thought at first (when he woke up squeeed in between his two best friends and cousins, all of them naked and warm and still just a little bit sticky) that it would be odd after that, going back to their normal life in the daytime, mundane tasks like cooking and eating, walking and talking and making conversation.

On the other hand, he didn't want to put off eating any longer than he had to.

And it _was_ odd, but he soon realized he didn't mind. There was no "going back", but he was happy enough to be going forward.


End file.
